


Found

by youwerefantasticrose



Category: Doctor Who, Roski - Fandom, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: AU, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 21:56:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/740592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youwerefantasticrose/pseuds/youwerefantasticrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: Loki as the Torchwood agent, Rose as the fallen alien</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It’s his day off, and he’s been looking forward to it for weeks. But now that it’s here, he misses the distractions of Torchwood. It may be dangerous, but it keeps his mind off of his family, keeps him from dwelling on his past.

And now, as he drives aimlessly through some country road, he presses hard on the gas pedal, trying to outrun his thoughts. It’s not working.

He turns up the radio, loud as he can stand it, and speeds up more. 

Suddenly there’s flash of light from the sky, and he brakes, cursing as the car skids to a stop. He watches as the light falls towards the earth, and it hits the ground with flash of sparks and an impact so hard his car shakes.

“Shit,” he breathes, opening the door and jumping out, strapping his gun on his hip. He runs toward the crater, silently thanking the universe for the distraction.

He reaches the edge of the hole, and it’s deep, smoke rising from the center, obscuring whatever it is that’s fallen. He climbs in carefully, sliding down the wall of the hole. He steps toward the center, and the smoke begins to clear, revealing a… person? He can’t tell, can only see the outline, but it’s definitely alive.

He touches his gun as he gets closer, his heart racing, adrenaline pumping through his veins. The figure groans, and he kneels down next to it, seeing now that it’s laying face down, its breathing labored.

It turns over, and his breath catches. It’s a she, and she looks human, blonde hair and pink skin, her eyes squeezed closed in obvious pain. For a moment he forgets his training, and he reaches out to her.

“Are you alright?”

She opens her eyes, and she tries to sit up, but she gasps in pain, her hand clutching her side.

“Here, let me help,” he say, gripping her gently, pulling her to a sitting position so she’s leaning on him. He doesn’t know where this is coming from; she’s an alien and he’s a Torchwood agent, this is not what he should be doing. He should be getting out his phone, calling this in, but instead he’s lifting her hand gently, checking her wound.

She gasps as he probes her side, eyes squeezing shut again.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says. “Looks like you have a few broken ribs.”

“I coulda told you that,” she says softly.

His eyes widen in surprise as she speaks. She seems so human, but she clearly isn’t. No human could have survived that fall.

“Can you stand?”

She nods, and he helps her up. She leans against him, and she tries to take a step, crying out as her foot falters. 

“Ankle’s broken,” she hisses through clenched teeth. 

“My car’s right over here,” he says, and he picks her up, carrying her over to it and setting her in the front seat.

They ride in silence for a moment, him watching the road, her leaning against the window, eyes on the stars.

“Where are you taking me?” she says softly, and he somehow hears in her voice that she’s broken, that she’s holding back a deep and unfathomable sadness; he knows the feeling. 

“To my flat,” he says, deciding in that split second that he’ll keep her from Torchwood. Who knows what they’ll do to her? He doesn’t know anything about her, but he can’t subject her to that, he’s already decided.

“Thank you, um…” she pauses.

“Loki,” he answers. “My name is Loki.”

“My name is Rose.”


	2. Chapter 2

He hadn’t known what to say beyond that, driving a wounded alien to his flat. No experience to go from. Not that he was good at talking to people anyway. That was one of the reasons he loved his job; it was all business. No one asked him about his personal life; they only discussed the aliens they’d bagged and tagged.

He’s lying in bed the next morning thinking about that, and how he’d broken protocol last night. He’d done the bagging, sort of, but normally that didn’t entail bringing the alien home with him, patching them up, and putting them to bed in his guest room. 

But he knew already she wasn’t the usual alien. It went against all he’d been taught, and all of his instincts, but something stronger than that had come over him, and he’d thrown the rule book out of the window. 

But now, as he gets up and gets dressed, he realizes that he has an alien of unknown origins and capabilities in his flat. Who knows what she (it, he corrects himself mentally, come on, Loki, get it together) could be? He’ll take her in to Torchwood today, he swears to himself. He steps out of his room, looking at the closed door down the hallway. He steps back in, grabbing his gun, strapping it to his hip and covering it with his shirt. Just in case.

He goes down the hall slowly, and pauses before the door, his heart racing, adrenaline chasing through his veins. He raises his hand to knock, and then changes his mind, opening the door, his hand rested on his gun.

She’s sitting up, hands over her eyes, crying softly. She looks up when he comes in, wiping her tears with a shaky breath. Their eyes meet, and in hers he can see pain, so much pain, and a faint light that reminds him inexplicably of the stars. He freezes, his hand falling from his hip. For a moment they stay there, eyes locked, neither moving, and it’s odd for him, this feeling of being helpless and unsure. 

She breaks it, looking away.

“Sorry,” he says, looking at her tear-stained face, heart clenching in an unfamiliar feeling of empathy.

He doesn’t know how it happens, but he’s suddenly next to her, sitting gingerly on the bed beside her. He reaches out cautiously, placing his hand over hers. She looks up at him, and the depth in her eyes almost suffocates him, makes him feel like he’s drifting, in the ocean or the sky, endless.

He’s not taking her in.

&&&

It’s a few days later, and she’s feeling well enough to walk around, her ankle having healed with inhuman speed, reminding him again that she is alien.

But she seems so human to him, more human than he feels himself. 

They’ve set up a routine. He’s taken the week off work, much to the chagrin of his bosses. But he’s no idiot; even though he trusts her (that’s a revelation to him as well, he already trusts her, maybe he is an idiot), he knows better than to leave an alien unattended. He’s actually brought food in the house, instead of living off coffee and the occasional sandwich. And they’ve slowly begun talking.

At first it’s just asking how she’s feeling, and her responding. Her thanking him for the food, and for the place to stay. But silence is a constant companion. Normally he’d be more than fine with that, but he’s bursting with curiosity. 

This morning she actually comes to the kitchen for breakfast. They’re sitting at the table, eating quietly.

“Thank you for the food,” she says softly.

“You’re welcome. How are you feeling today?”

“Much better. Thank you.”

“Can I— I’ve been wondering…”

She looks up at him, face neutral.

“Where exactly are you from?” The question bursts out before he can stop it, and he swallows hard. Loki Odinson, expert interrogator, nervous because of a pretty alien. 

She’s quiet for a minute, looking at him.

“Far from here,” she finally answers, surprising him. “Another universe.”

“Another universe?” he asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah,” she says. “I fell through the Void into your universe.”

“Wow,” he says, a million questions racing through his mind. “But how— Did you— How?”

“‘S complicated.”

He nods, intrigued but not wanting to push her. 

“What’s your universe like?” he asks.

She smiles a bit, for the first time since he’s met her, and it’s beautiful, in a way that almost causes him pain.

“‘S not too different, from what I can tell. No zeppelins. I don’t know about the other planets though. In my universe, we went to so many. I had this box, you see, this ship, and we traveled everywhere, through time and space.”

She’s looking through him, her mind clearly somewhere else, lost in memories.

“We?” he asks softly.

Her eyes focus and her smile falls, her hands clenching on the table. She looks down, and he holds his breath. She stands, still looking at the floor.

“Thanks for breakfast,” she whispers, and she leaves, heading down the hallway and shutting her door behind her with a gentle click.

“You’re welcome,” he says softly after her, words lost in the sudden silence she leaves behind.


End file.
